In mid-March, I started photographing the murals that are transforming boarded-up Sixth Street into a wildly colored canvas of inspiration and hope. In the process of documenting this art, I had a magical experience with two members of the homeless community that broke my heart wide open.
The story goes like this. Numerous artists, including those with the HOPE Campaign, are spray painting art on the plywood boards covering the bars and businesses that were closed to prevent the spread of the coronavirus.
One afternoon, while taking photos on Sixth Street, I said hello to a man who looked familiar. I know you, I said. You’re Art Randle, the street artist I met a while back. He invited me to see his art project under way at the Blind Pig Pub, and off we went.
At the pub, he explained his process: pencil, then Sharpies, and ultimately, probably, a final coat of acrylic paint. As we chatted, he kept drawing on a sketchpad. I assumed he was planning the next stages of this particular piece, and I continued snapping photos, never looking at the page.
When we said goodbye, he said hold on. I have something for you. Smiling at my puzzled expression, he held up his sketchbook: It was a drawing of me, camera in hands. Tears flooded my eyes. I felt seen, in a way that was almost too much to bear. He tore out the page and handed it to me. A gift, he said.
He tore out the page and handed it to me. A gift, he said.
I left Sixth Street and headed for a curbside pickup at a nearby restaurant, where I spotted Soco Joe, a beloved member of the South Austin homeless population. We launched into conversation, and I showed him the portrait that Art had drawn of me. Joe reached into his backpack and pulled out a photo frame that he’d been planning to sell on South Congress Avenue. A gift, he said, to frame your drawing. He grinned and then told me: It was meant to be.
Soco Joe with the frame for my new piece of art: “It was meant to me.”